A Second Chance at Godhood

Cold steel slid through bone and muscle with a sickening crunch. Kaelen Vance stared down at his own chest. A jagged, obsidian dagger jutted from his sternum. Dark, thick blood pulsed from the fatal wound, spilling over his snow-white battle armor and pooling at his heavy metal boots. The air around them smelled of ash, sulfur, and copper. He forced his heavy head up, his vision blurring at the edges.

The woman holding the hilt of the blade was Lyra Thorne.

This was the woman he had loved for a decade. The woman he had bled for, fought for, and dragged through the apocalyptic ruins of the world. He had starved so she could eat. He had taken the claws of beasts into his own flesh so she could sleep safely. He had sacrificed his own progression time and time again to ensure she survived the nightmare.

"Kaelen! This was your choice. Don't blame me for being ruthless. If you can become a god, why stay human? You didn't want that chance. I did!" Lyra twisted the blade deep inside his chest.

Her face held no regret. There were no tears in her eyes. There was only a ravenous, consuming greed that warped her beautiful features into something monstrous. She stared at the divine light beginning to leak from his wound.

"After you die, I'll become a god in your place." She leaned forward and whispered the words against his ear, her breath warm against his freezing skin.

Kaelen could not form a single word. His lungs filled with his own blood, choking him from the inside out. He had given her everything. He had shielded her from the endless horrors of the new world. In return, she shoved a dagger through his heart to steal the divinity he had earned. His knees buckled. The solid ground vanished beneath his boots. He plunged backward into the endless, suffocating darkness of the Hellish Abyss. The freezing wind screamed in his ears as he fell forever, sinking into oblivion until his awareness faded into nothingness.

"Kaelen, let's break up."

A sharp, clear voice pierced the darkness. Kaelen gasped for air. His eyes snapped open. The phantom pain of a jagged blade in his chest still burned like hellfire, but the abyss was gone. Blinding, unfiltered sunlight hit his face. The acrid smell of car exhaust and hot asphalt filled his lungs instead of ash and blood. Cars roared past on a busy city street, horns blaring in a chaotic symphony. Pedestrians bumped his shoulder as they hurried down the crowded sidewalk.

He stared down at his trembling hands. There was no blood. There was no shattered battle armor. He was wearing a faded denim jacket, a cheap cotton shirt, and an old digital watch.

What was happening? *Clash of Immortals* had already fused with Earth. The grand cities of the old world had been reduced to smoking rubble by the invading races. Why were there towering glass skyscrapers and functioning traffic lights all around him?

"Kaelen, I'm a college graduate. You didn't even finish high school. We're no longer part of the same world. I'm grateful for everything you've done for me over the years, but we really aren't right for each other."

He raised his head, his breathing slowly stabilizing. Lyra stood just a few feet away. She wore a pristine white summer dress and held a designer handbag he had bought for her. She looked incredibly young. Her skin was untouched by the grime of the apocalypse. Her hands were untouched by the blood of the future.

The memories slammed into his skull with the force of a sledgehammer. This was graduation day. The day Lyra, egged on by her snobby friends, had taken the initiative to dump him on the street.

More importantly, today was the global launch day of *Clash of Immortals*.

In his past life, the heartbreak of this moment had paralyzed him. He had spent an entire week drowning in cheap alcohol and misery before finally logging into the game. Because of that pathetic depression, he had missed the crucial first wave of registrations. No one knew back then that the virtual world would eventually merge with the Blue Planet, turning Earth into a chaotic, blood-soaked battlefield for countless alien races fighting for ultimate dominance.

He was back. The realization washed over him like ice water. He had actually been reborn.

"Kaelen! I know you've been good to me, and I know you like me. But I've always seen you as an older brother. If you don't mind, I can still be your little sister in the future." Lyra offered a practiced, pitiful smile, tilting her head to look innocent.

Kaelen stared directly at her throat. The modern laws of Blue Planet were the only thing keeping her head attached to her shoulders right now. If the game had already merged with reality, his first action upon opening his eyes would have been to rip her throat out with his bare hands. The ultimate betrayal. The stolen godhood. The treason against their entire species. It all demanded a river of blood.

But he had plenty of time. Death was far too easy for a traitor like her. Since he could not kill her today, he would take his sweet time dismantling her life piece by piece. He would make her suffer in ways she could not even comprehend.

"No. Absolutely not. Aren't you breaking up with me? Fine. I agree." Kaelen shoved his hands into his pockets and met her gaze with dead, cold eyes.

Lyra blinked, her practiced smile vanishing instantly.

"Really?" she asked.

She had spent the entire morning preparing for a massive, embarrassing scene. She fully expected him to cling to her, to cry, to drop to his knees on the pavement and refuse to let go. She had been stressing over how to force him to accept the breakup.

In his previous life, he had done exactly that. He had groveled and stalked her for days. To force him to give up, Lyra had set a deliberately impossible condition. She demanded he earn five hundred thousand within a single month.

The old Kaelen had been a naive, pathetic fool. He stumbled into *Clash of Immortals*, discovered his exceptional gaming talent, and ground himself to the bone. He actually hit the five hundred thousand mark within thirty days. His rank skyrocketed to the top tier nationwide. His monthly income hit seven figures, and his net worth soared. Once he became rich, Lyra conveniently forgot all about the breakup and stayed right by his side. She leeched off his success, taking everything he offered, right up to the moment she drove a dagger into his chest.

Looking back at the situation as an outsider, Kaelen felt nothing but sheer disgust for his past self. He had been a gullible idiot.

"Really. But since we've broken up, shouldn't you pay back the money you spent while you were in school? I paid for that." Kaelen kept his voice flat, devoid of any warmth.

A girl standing next to Lyra scoffed loudly, stepping forward with her hands on her hips. It was Gemma Brooks, Lyra's insufferable best friend.

"Kaelen, are you even a man? Those were normal expenses during your relationship. How dare you ask Lyra for that money back? I've never seen a man as cheap as you." Gemma glared at him with pure contempt.

Kaelen let out a short, harsh laugh.

"Cheap? Since high school, I have paid all her tuition and living expenses. The luxury bags she carries, the car she drives—I bought them all. Even her underwear was paid for with my hard-earned money. All told, that's over 1.8 million. Anyone with a shred of shame wouldn't call me cheap."

Lyra flushed a deep, angry red. Pedestrians were starting to slow their pace, their curious eyes darting toward the escalating argument.

"Kaelen, I'm so disappointed in you. Is money all you see? Do you even see me anymore? You're vulgar beyond belief. If that's how you are, fine. I'll pay it back." Lyra lifted her chin high, trying desperately to maintain her dignity in front of the growing crowd of onlookers.

Kaelen pulled his smartphone from his pocket. He tapped the screen, stopped the voice memo, and held the device up for her to see.

"Your words. I recorded that. It's legally binding. You spent a total of 1.86 million of my money over the years—just counting direct bank transfers. That doesn't include the designer bags, the cosmetics, the jewelry, or the car. I gave those willingly, so I won't ask for them back. As for the 1.86 million, I'll round it down out of the goodness of my heart. Transfer 1.8 million to me. Cash or bank transfer—which do you prefer?"

Lyra froze. The color drained from her face. She stared blankly at the recording app on his phone screen. She had never once kept track of the money she spent. She treated his bank account like an endless, magical well. Hearing the massive figure of 1.8 million hit her like a physical blow to the stomach. She did not have even a fraction of that amount to her name.

"Kaelen, are you even human? You have the nerve to ask Lyra for such a small amount?" a mocking, arrogant male voice rang out over the street noise.

A young man pushed his way through the small crowd of onlookers. He wore a perfectly tailored suit, an expensive luxury watch, and a condescending smirk. It was Darius Graves. Lyra's wealthy college classmate. The billionaire heir with a family fortune worth several billion. Her so-called male best friend.

Kaelen's eyes locked onto Darius. The casual street noise seemed to instantly fade into a low, deadly hum. His blood ran ice cold.

In the previous life, Darius had also been among the very first players to enter *Clash of Immortals*. Relying entirely on his immense family wealth, he had founded the Apex Guild. With deep pockets and an early-entry advantage, the guild rose to power quickly. When the game merged with Blue Planet, the Apex Guild successfully became one of the Top Ten Guilds of Elysium.

Then came the Bloodbound War. The Elysium server was brutally attacked by a massive coalition of multiple foreign nations. Darius had been stationed on the Southeastern Defense Line, holding the ultimate tactical advantage.

Instead of fighting, Darius led the Apex Guild and surrendered without throwing a single punch.

Because of this coward's treason, millions of Elysium server players were slaughtered like livestock in the streets. Vast, irreplaceable territories fell into enemy hands, dooming countless innocents.